Death would be so pissed
by bishie-stalker
Summary: This is not a slash! Death is getting ready to retire and his protege has gone rouge. She runs into Sam. Death is gonna be pissed he left her post with so much work left undone.


Death would not forgive her

Chic

There she stood in front of a willow tree. The young girl in this form, but as old as the birth of the stars and the sky. Her head hung low in the howling snow driven wind. She would not feel the cold and had never felt anything before. Her long auburn hair blew in the wind and snow as if trying to escape her thoughts. Layla was her name.

Layla loved her job at one point but she was thinking of leaving. None of the other reapers knew what she was planing. These thoughts were all her own. She remembered the angels who had fallen into hell and the ones who stayed behind loyal to God. Her memories had become fuzzy over the several centuries. Her creator of course was God, but she was created to assist a very special one of his creations. Though she was unsure if he was older than God himself. She was presented to Death as his protege. Layla had been one of the few who had seen his true form. It was a thing she would never forget. His massive wings beat at the ground below her and she was to listen no matter his request. Death was her guardian,mentor, and in a sense father.

Layla no longer was a concern of God, demons, all the dark things in Purgatory, and the humans who wandered the earth. She belonged solely to Death. He had hundreds of reapers in his order, but she was the one who was to follow in his footsteps if he decided to "retire".

The young reaper now stood in front of the willow tree, the symbol of sorrow and death. Her face was gaunt and sunken in. She was as thin as a few decade old corpse. Her collar bone stood out where her black dress showed a little bit of skin. Laylas fingers were bony and long. She did have some very pretty features, however. Her long curly auburn hair and almost gray full lips. She had the eyes of a blue earth sky. God had told her she was a dark beauty, but must remain the embodiment of death. She was to a reminder to the humans of where they would go. She performed the duties of any other reaper.

Layla had escorted old men to heaven and children barely out of training diapers. The task brought her purpose once upon a century or two ago. She was growing tired of it. She had seen the burning of Sodom and Gamora. The millions of souls of the Holocaust and countless wars. She was assigned the task of helping where the work load was to much. Her touch and words were always kind. The ones who found their way down the darker path she was still kind to. It was not her place to judge after ushering duties were done.

She now had the task of deciding where she would hide. Heaven would leave her standing out like a shadow at sunset. Hell would have been better, but the risks were still great. She would be found. Purgatory was dangerous and the leviathan just irritated her. Earth for now was her final option. Layla did not wish to be bound but it was a better option then her initial fate would be. No one would summon her. Death was getting tired and would soon give the duties solely to her. Layla sighed deeply.

Her body suddenly began to feel very heavy and the corner of her eyes began to cloud in gray and black. She felt as though she were drowning in water far to dark to see and she could not move to swim. Her vision went dark completely and she no longer felt her body.

Layla awoke in a cold bathtub. The surface was unfamiliar to her, but the room felt warm. She had never experienced warmth before. Her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit atmosphere of a run down hotel room. She stood up to look around, but found her wrist bound to the bathtub towel bar. The young reaper struggled to get free; pulling and tugging at the sliver bracelet. A voice came from the other room. A voice she had heard before through ease dropping on Death. He knew she was there but never scolded her. She was still a young brat after all he told her several time. She was ancient in the sense of time of the humans and fall of Lucifer, but was a teenager compared to his age.

"Hey, let me out of here." she shouted and pulled against the restraint.

"You're awake, good." it was voice of he man who had had no soul.

 _What a ridiculous hair cut,_ Layla though as the man grabbed a key from his jacket pocket.

"You know, earth monkey, if you were going to bind me my father is much more powerful. He has less of a temper than I do." she hissed at Sam.

"I did not bind you or summon you." he spoke calmly.

Sam unlocked her from the handcuff. His hand was warm on hers. If any other human had touched her he surely would have died, but this man had no effect from her. Layla stood up and got out of the bathtub. She shoved his hand away as he tired to help her out.

"How the hell did I end up here? This place smells like piss and cheap whiskey." she spat

Sam smiled a little and followed behind her to the other room. She sat on the bed, rubbing her throbbing skull. He motioned to sit beside her but once he met her gaze he took the chair at the dusty table.

"I found you out by a dumpster behind Happy Burger. I knew you weren't a drunk or crack head when I saw the poor dead cashier laying next to you trash bag still in hand."

"Of course it is a risk of the job after all." her words were much softer now.

Sam got up and brought her a glass of water. She took it without smiling. It tasted bitter in her mouth.

"I guess my prayers were answered. Hey, dude, do you have any food in this shit hole?"

The tall man brought her over a burger glistening with grease and melting cheese. There was a bite out of it, but she didn't care. She wolfed it down in less than ten bites. Sam handed her the last of his fries and a small glass of whiskey. Layla shoved the whiskey away with haste. The fires, however, were gone in two minutes.

 _No wonder he likes this unhealthy stuff so much,_ she thought with a smile.

"What brought you here?" his words cut through her thoughts.

"Boredom I suppose. You can only see so many forlorn and uncertainty on the dead's faces before it gets old." she sighed looking at the melting ice in the whiskey glass.

Sam smiled kindly once more at her. She sensed something was off. He was missing someone greatly. This was a true feeling of loss. Layla had never felt such a painful vibe from a human before. She almost felt bad for the poor mud monkey.

"What do you know of Purgatory?" he asked staring at his own glass of whiskey.

"What do you mean?"

"My brother is there now. Him and a dear friend of ours disappeared when we defeated Dick."

Layla laughed and finally took a sip of the bitter drink. She made a sour face and placed it back on the nightstand.

"No one beats dick."

"We did though. It was hard work, but we beat him."

"Never mind, what do you what to know about Purgatory?"

He stood up and refilled his glass. Sam was now sitting at the small table, drink in hand. She realized how large his hands were. This was no tiny man. She found him...intriguing now. Layla would need to be entertained while she was on earth after all.

"How do you get in without being, well, a monster?"

"You can't just waltz in. I'm not sure,Sam. I am the one to usher in the dead both human and dark one

alike. I have never been on that side. Dad, said I don't want to see it for myself."

"Dad?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, well, Death is sort of my father. I am to replace him if he decides to retire. He is coming close to his time. I never thought he would give up his job, but even Death has to retire to Florida eventually I guess." she smiled a little.

The young man didn't respond back. He was far away in his thoughts. Layla didn't know what to say to him. She went over and sat at the chair across from him.

"I can help you figure it out, but you won't survive in Purgatory. Hell is bad, but there are things in Purgatory much scarier than demons. I don't have much hope for your brother, love."

Sam slammed his glass down splashing whiskey all over the table. His strange colored eyes were filled with rage.

"Look, I am going to get him out of there. I hate this life I am living. Everyone I know is dead or gone so far I can't find them." his voice trailed off on the last part.

Layla stuck out a hand in a gesture of greeting. Sam looked at it, puzzled.

"Let's start over." she smiled at him.

"I'm Layla and I am going to help you out."

Sam took her hand and shook it firmly. He looked disgusted. The tall man looked at her hand for a long time as if just noticing how bony she was.

"You really take the whole heroin chic thing pretty seriously, huh?"

"What can I say Kate Moss was once my role model minus the whole crack thing or whatever."

He smiled a little at this. She grabbed his hand again just to make sure she wouldn't kill him. He was still there tall and stupid looking. Layla still found him interesting.

"Okay,lets get mission 'Save the hot brother and winged monkey back' started." she laughed.

Sam downed his his whiskey. He was less serious looking now.

"You gotta change out of that dress though I can see your ribs."

Layla dramatically rolled her eyes.

"I am kind of the embodiment of death after all."

She stood up, and looked at Sam as if she was getting ready to give him a motivational speech.

Layla downed his whiskey and made another sour face. Her blue eyes glittered with excitement.

"Fine we will go shopping. Sammy, you can buy me a pretty dress and buy me some more of those burgers. You gotta treat a lady to a date before you go braving Purgatory."

Sam laughed and stood up next to her. He towered over her. Layla smiled. This was going to be the most fun she had had in centuries. Death was going to be so pissed and she would enjoy every second of it.


End file.
